Timberlock’s voyageurs has taught me a bit about hiking in difficult conditions, but this was a whole new world. The mountain was steep, really steep, and each step we made was met with three backwards as we were climbing up what could only be compared to a giant sand pile, covered in sharp volcanic rocks. The climb took us a couple of hours, and once reaching the top we encountered freezing winds and an absolutely stunning view.

The way down was extra adventures as we would take one step forward, and slip several feet down the mountain. At one point I fell and rolled down the rocks until I crashed into the rest of the group, safe but rather scraped up. Our dinner that night never tasted so good, and I have rarely ever felt so accomplished.

Wellington, in the words of my 15-year-old home stay brother, is “completely awesome”. We did another city scramble and spent our days exploring, asking a lot of questions, and shopping, shopping, shopping. I don’t typically care that much about clothing…but after four week wearing the same frequently washed three shirts? Well it gets a little old. We were so excited to be surrounded by lots of new people and exciting things to distract us.

Speaking of new people, our home stay in Eastbourne has been wonderful. It was fantastic to be in a real home again, and taking a break from the routine of travelling and hostels. Exploring the town and hanging out with the locals is wonderful, and I was really sad to leave.

We left early on Monday morning, to meet the ferry that will take us to the South Island, and the second half of our trip. Five hours and a lot of homework catch up later, we set foot on Te Wai Pounamu.

If I don’t blog or contact in the next few weeks, it is because we are attempting to officially disconnect from NMH and the world outside of our group. We have a little over two weeks left, and are currently in the midst of the Southern Alps, surrounded by sea, jungle and mountains. I promise to fill everyone in on the rest of my adventures once I return.

Not a joke.

After that we made our way to another Marae, where we stayed for two nights. In our time there we had the pleasure of going horseback riding, snorkeling and learning how to weave flowers out of flax. The flowers were beautiful, wrapping in the national, and distinctly Maori, sign of a Koru. There had been a funeral a few days before, and we decided to leave the flowers for the woman who had died.

Maori treat their dead differently than our culture does, and watching this unfold was incredibly interesting. We went to visit Jackie, not a graveyard, and we talked to her as if we were meeting her. She was introduced as a proud, gracious woman, and when we had the idea of leaving our gift to her the family was overcome with the sense of mana (closest translated with the english word of pride) that came to them knowing we were there to support their loss, and her life. Jackie died due to complications with depression, illuminating the darker side of the current Maori culture, and I’m really touched that we could make a difference to their family.

Tonight I am entering my second night at another holiday park, where we have spent our days exploring the famous glowworm filled caves. Turns out that the “black water rafting” is actually floating on a tire through eel infested waters! Good thing that I’m not that scared of them anymore, because it would have been torture to wade through the river in the pitch black, knowing they were all around me. We rock climbed, belayed (or absailing as the NZers call it), rafted and explored.

We're all little kids again

The last bit of excitment occurred when I managed to cut my finger after the rafting expedition… everything is 100% fine, but I did get a preview of the excellent New Zealand health care, free of charge and incredibly healthy! Getting hurt was a blessing in disguise, because I got to see a different way of taking care of people, and I have to say that I like this way better!

Tomorrow we leave for a youth hostel, and in the next few days we will be hiking Tangaroa’s crossing, spending time at a Marae and doing home stays in Wellington. I hope everyone at home is doing well in the snow, I love you all and miss you so much!

Wish you were here. No seriously, I really do...

Traveling felt weird, as if entering into a time machine instead of an airplane. The six hour plane to LA felt like days, and the 13 hour plane to New Zealand seemed lost between Michael Jackson movies and fuzzy dreams. We spent the next few days exploring the city, adjusting to jet lag, and learning all about a little thing called perspective.

On our maps, New Zealand barely shows up. It’s way down there, barely hiding beneath Australia, the “last stop on the way to the south pole”. Here, it’s a little different. America is the far away land, where wonders and myths take root. Have you ever seen someone get shot? Is it like High School Musical and Mean Girls? Are there cliques and drama and matching clothes and songs and guns? They ask these questions with wide eyes and complete sincerity, marveling at the world they saw on TV. Never before have I been so aware of the perspective that the media sends out to the world.

Auckland was awesome. Clean and beautiful, it’s steep roads snaked up into the hills and back down to the ocean, piercing the sky with a silver sky tower and marking the seas with a thousand sail boats. The City of Sails, as it is known, was a place where people would bend down and pick up trash on the ground, instead of adding to it. Different from New York or Boston? Just a tiny bit…

The next two days were spent staying at this gorgeous Marae. We were met with a formal Powhiri (welcome), where we had to give a speech, sing, and present ourselves in the most vulnerable way possible, with a hongi. The sharing of breath and the touching of noses, or sometimes it’s in the form of a simple kiss on the cheek, represent the Maori’s way of seeing you, not just the way you look, but who you are. After that moment, you become family.

And family, we were. The children would hang on us and ask us questions, pulling at our clothing and speaking freely in their sweet New Zealand accents. One of the children, Lateal, slept on my mattress the first night after begging her mother to let her have a slumber party with us. Bright and spunky, Lateal never failed to give us her own opinions on everything around us.

Many more stories have taken place, scenes and images that would take a thousand words to explain when I only have as long as my store bought internet card will allow, so I’ll have to show you a few of them in pictures.

Portrait: Triniti, age 5

Travelers luck. Meeting the Prime Minister of NZ!

From Lion Rock, beach trip number one

I found Nemo.

Tomorrow we will immerse ourselves into the Maori culture with the annual Waitangi Weekend, a time for celebrating what came before, and what will come in the future.

To all that I love, I hope you feel as if you are here with me, I miss you all and can’t wait to see you again.
xoxo,

Time to set the standards higher. Today begins the next-biggest-thing I’ve ever done. In three hours, a bus will take me away from the NMH campus that has become my home, and into the first waves of an incredible adventure.

How is it ever possible to be ready for this sort of thing? You can think you’re ready, you can pack six times, make a thousand lists (you should see all the post it notes around my desk right now), say goodbye, leave your words and promises and memories, and think that you know what to expect.

If I’ve learned anything from my two years at school, it’s that often, things don’t go exactly how you pictured them. Sometimes they’re worse, sometimes things challenge you past the point you thought you could handle, and you wake up on the other side shocked and proud of what you managed to accomplish.

Sometimes, they’re better. Sometimes you lose things to find something better, you change your vision of yourself to become closer to the person you want to be, people change so that you can let them go, places change so that they can make room for new people, and you discover that, no matter what, everything has a way of working out in the end.

I am so excited, so nervous, so sad to leave the people I love, so happy to travel with my new ‘family’, so ready, and completely unprepared at the same time. So here goes nothing, here starts the newest adventure, the next chapter. I hope I’ll get a chance to update you all along the way, and I wish everyone the best of luck on whatever adventure they’re about to set off on.

E Noha Ra, goodbye to those staying,
Caroline

Last spring, when I first found out I was accepted to the New Zealand study abroad program, I entered the date of departure into an app on my phone that counts down days, and was amazed at how many days stretched between that wet spring day, and the moment when my trip was to begin. Every time an event is within ten days of occurring, a little flag pops up when you turn on the phone, a constant reminder of the closing in of days and the much anticipated arrival of the birthday/holiday/weekend. It seemed to me that the little red flag of triumph would take a couple of years to appear, instead of a few months. And now… only five days?

Today was a celebration of family, of new beginnings and reunions and hope. I spent the day with those closest to me, my last Sunday at NMH for months, begining to say goodbye while saying hello and welcoming home.

I will miss these people so much

My plan is to just write. To write and photograph and live, and if anyone wants to follow this modern-online-journal thing that’s completely up to you. I’m not going to advise you to tune in, ’cause honestly I have no idea if it’s going to be interesting. I hope it is, for my sake and yours, but there’s no telling right now. We’ll just have to see what happens…